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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399593">curiosity (you are the reason i'm smiling)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jo2ukes/pseuds/jo2ukes'>jo2ukes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(it's bc of kiyo's sister. boo we hate her), Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of emotional/psychological abuse, Pre-Relationship, also kiyo's canon backstory does not Exist here i do not See It, but like...barely, everyone is just Vibing at School. we love to see it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:01:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jo2ukes/pseuds/jo2ukes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Having someone else tenderly care for his wounds, excuse his carelessness, it’s all foreign to him, but somehow the kiss is the most unexpected part. Such a simple action, performed with confidence, and Korekiyo finds his entire thought process has halted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gokuhara Gonta/Shinguji Korekiyo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>curiosity (you are the reason i'm smiling)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Korekiyo doesn’t quite understand the timeline of events that led him to Gonta. How they became as close as they are. It started simply enough, as most fated encounters do. Curiosity was the driving force, which isn’t truly surprising, as it drives most of his actions. But he never intended to become close to his classmate. At first, Gonta Gokuhara was merely an object of fascination. A once and a lifetime opportunity of study, nothing more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t become more, because Korekiyo Shinguji doesn’t have friends. Doesn’t know how. Doesn’t believe he’d deserve them even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, the circumstances of their… </span>
  <em>
    <span>friendship</span>
  </em>
  <span> shouldn’t be all that odd, all things considered. Gonta is a nice enough boy. Too nice, perhaps. Too trusting- befriending even their most… </span>
  <em>
    <span>brightly colored</span>
  </em>
  <span> classmates- classmates whose every move screams that they are poison, unreliable, treacherous. And perhaps Korekiyo falls into that group. By all rights, he should. While he may not be as openly deceitful, his subtle mannerisms are usually more than enough to warn others to stay away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His classmates seem to be the exception, each of them ignoring the warnings- Kaede finding ways to talk about shared interests, Angie offering to help restore some of the artifacts in his lab or gifting him little carvings and trinkets she’s made after reading about them in history books, Kaito sitting next to him in the dining hall when their nonsensical eating schedules line up and loudly prattling about whatever comes to mind at that very moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gonta is the same. He always greets Korekiyo with a cheery smile, always offers to help him carry things up to his lab, goes out of his way to sit down next to him at mealtimes when a seemingly invisible barrier separates Korekiyo from the rest of their class. It shouldn’t feel special, because Gonta is like that with everyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, Gonta is different. Different because Korekiyo approaches </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>first. It’s impossible to keep the questions biting at the back of his mind at bay. It starts with a simple request- can Gonta talk about himself with Korekiyo? Can he talk about his life before coming to this school, can he talk about his family, or anything that comes to mind? Can Korekiyo take notes? Can Korekiyo watch him work? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gonta says yes far too easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As time passes, Korekiyo’s observations become less scheduled, and more natural. He no longer schedules time to spend with Gonta in his lab, instead finding himself wandering in almost any time he has a moment to spare. Gonta never seems to mind. Instead, he returns the favor, inviting himself to Korekiyo’s lab, staying up far too late listening to him go on and on about the artifacts on each floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, when they’re together, Korekiyo forgets to take notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every time Korekiyo tries to untangle the threads in his mind and make sense of it, there’s too many knots, too many threads, too many colors. He’s long since decided it’s one of the many things in his life that doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make sense, it can just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but his resolve doesn’t stop him from musing on the circumstance every once and awhile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today, he’s agreed to visit Gonta’s beehives. He expects it will be like every other visit- they will sit and talk and Gonta will try to get him to interact with his insects as much as Korekiyo will allow. Bees seem to be the most appealing creatures Gonta has placed in front of him in quite some time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Korekiyo meant to take notes on Gonta’s speech patterns for his own personal study, but- as has become habit- his pencil has been still for quite some time, resting lazily between his bandaged fingers. Instead, he’s entranced by Gonta’s excited chatter- he talks about life cycles, different species, pollination and their usefulness in agriculture, things Korekiyo knows the basics of. But Gonta speaks with ease about some of the more complex aspects of the creatures- their anatomy, their characteristics, their hive behavior. It’s always impressive and, while Korekiyo has no interest in the creatures himself, he finds himself fascinated by everything that’s said, losing himself in the rhythm of Gonta’s speech. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At some point in his excitement, Gonta must have decided it was the appropriate time to retrieve the hive, carefully wheeling it closer to Korekiyo. The loud buzzing is what pulls Korekiyo back into the present, realizing that Gonta’s confident voice has stopped. Korekiyo stiffens, suddenly gripping his journal and pencil tighter than usual. He edges back slightly, keeping as much distance between himself and the hive as he can manage without hurting Gonta’s feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Kiyo doesn’t have to be afraid,” Gonta grins confidently, noting his stiff posture, “Bees will not sting!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Korekiyo finds himself letting out a shaky laugh, taking a tentative step closer. He’s been stung before and it’s not an experience he’s keen on repeating, but somehow he feels he can trust Gonta.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gonta maybe understand why some people nervous around bugs. They can be dangerous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Korekiyo hums in agreement, distracting himself by scribbling absentmindedly in his journal- it’s nonsense, just random lines, but it keeps his hands busy. “Entomological warfare isn’t as common as it once was, as it has since been declared unlawful by a majority of today’s countries, but has been used to varying degrees of success in several wars. In fact, beehives were once a popular material to catapult across enemy lines.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bees,” Gonta hums, “Bees can be very sensitive…” He lets his thoughts trail off for a brief moment, extending his fingers. As if on cue, one of the fatter bees landed on his index finger, Gonta’s expression lighting up with joy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bees make good weapon Gonta suppose,” he says finally, “but Gonta happy no one use them as weapons anymore.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A joy we share,” Korekiyo laughs through his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s fitting that Gonta is the ultimate entomologist. His personality is certainly suited for it. He is able to push past less-than-charming exteriors and find the beauty in everything. And, similarly, in every</span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span>. While Gonta still has… a bit of a ways to go in terms of getting him to feel any sort of affection toward insects, Korekiyo can relate to the fascination with unconventional beauty- at least from a humanities perspective. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiyo reminds Gonta of bug,” he hums, smiling to himself. He slowly extends his hand toward Korekiyo, making a subtle motion with his free hand- instructing Korekiyo to extend his own fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not understood by everyone, maybe appears dangerous, but Gonta knows Kiyo is good. Gonta understands Kiyo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He complies slowly, and Gonta presses their fingertips together, watching intently with an expression of joy as the bee crawls from Gonta’s fingers to Korekiyo’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Korekiyo bites his lip. The first half of the sentiment isn’t quite the compliment Gonta thinks it is, but perhaps that’s what makes it so genuine. So charming. But, to be understood… Korekiyo hasn’t felt as though anyone has understood him in years. Not since Sister’s passing. But now, as he spends his days among his classmates, he faces the inescapable loneliness of realizing that, perhaps, even Sister never understood him as she claimed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Days when Sister is out of bed are rare. Few and far between, especially as of late. Korekiyo feels somewhat guilty taking her with him on his most recent expedition, but she can’t take care of herself and Korekiyo doesn’t really trust anyone else to do it. Of course, he would never prioritize his studies over Sister, but he’s been given a rare opportunity to study a secluded village in the northern part of the country.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He wouldn’t say he’s made </span>
  </em>
  <span>friends</span>
  <em>
    <span> during this particular trip, but his studies are going remarkably well. He feels honored to have been invited as an observer, filling countless journals with notes and questions. Several of the village elders have given him copies of text to pour over and take with him when he eventually returns home. More than that, it seems the fresh air- away from the city- has done some good for Sister. She seems stronger, happier. He’s made a mental note to speak with the village doctors- if they have no potential remedies for Sister, at least he can watch them work.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’ve been staying in this particular village for several weeks now, and Korekiyo’s schedule is increasingly busy. It’s late when he comes home to Sister, and he’s surprised to see she’s on her feet. He opens his mouth to express excitement- joy, even- and ask her how she feels, but the words die in his throat as a loud crash echoes through their tent.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She doesn’t notice him at first. Her chest heaves and she’s drenched in a light sheen of sweat, her eyes filled with a burning anger. Eventually she sees him out of the corner of her eye, but doesn’t stop what she’s doing. His presence seems to anger her all the more and she shrieks, grabbing more of his belongings off his desk, throwing them to the ground. It seems she’s been on the rampage for a while- one of his field journals has been meticulously torn to shreds.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where have you been?” She asks, her voice loud for someone in her condition.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“My studies ran late. I was observing a burial ceremony and-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She cuts him off, flinging a pot across the room. Due to its age, it shatters easily against the pole by his head, a fragment of hardened clay scraping sharply against his cheek. Korekiyo knows better than to flinch or show signs of weakness. He swallows thickly, looking at the ground and waiting for the angry storm to pass.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A burial ceremony,” she scoffs. “You didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>me,” she fumes. “You were gone all day and you didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>me. You know I hate that.” She pauses, as though waiting for him to respond, but he knows better than to open his mouth. She’s justified in her anger. He’s selfish, putting his own interests above hers. He’d promised they’d visit the village healer and inquire about cures for her illness, but of course he’d forgotten. He’s supposed to take care of her, first and foremost. That’s what family is for, is it not?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe I should just hurry up and die to give you something to observe since you seem so keen on putting your studies before me. Are you trying to hurt me?” Her anger cools into tears, and she collapses to her knees, energy spent. She looks up at him, dark hair hanging in her face, wet eyes pleading with him. “Am I not good enough for you anymore, Korekiyo?” she asks. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course you’re good enough for me. I would never hurt you,” he kneels at her side, drying her tears with his fingers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m a horrible sister,” she sobs, “I’m sickly and you see me as a burden, that’s why you’re always trying to run away.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not running,” he says. He desperately wants her tears to stop. He hates that he’s made her feel this way. “I promise. I only lost track of time, and you seemed to be doing so well this morning-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“-I know you don’t mean it, Korekiyo, but you have to be careful. With me, with others. You’re different… you’re good at hurting people. You’re selfish.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She squeezes his hand, but a deep guilt settles in his stomach. Sister is right to be angry with him. Too many times he’s been focused on himself and his own interests- his own desires and curiosities. She only wants to spend what little time she has left with him, and he’s chasing some fleeting passion instead of making sure she’s safe and happy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I...I need to lie down,” she sighs, “clean the shards off the floor so you can help me back to bed?” her request has a commanding tone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He nods, immediately grabbing one of his empty travel bags. Something stops him from throwing away the things Sister has broken, though they don’t actually have value anymore. He hates letting them go- he lets a lie sit in the back of his mind: he can fix them, he can put the pieces back together and everything will be okay. But he knows his journal and the pot and the shards of something Korekiyo can’t even identify are all beyond hope. They’re not the first things of his he’s upset her into destroying, and he knows they won’t be the last.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When he repeatedly cuts his fingers on clay shards, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t cry out. It must be divine punishment for his neglect. It serves him right, he supposes. He makes an effort to wipe away the blood on his hands before helping Sister to her feet. As she settles into bed, she holds onto his hands, sighing as she surveys the damage he’s done.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have bandages in my trunk,” she says after a pause, “clean your hands and fetch them for me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Again, he obeys, grateful for her kindness. He isn’t much of a medic, and he wouldn’t know how to properly care for his own wounds beyond running them underneath warm water.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He kneels at her side as she tightly wraps his hands.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You will need to care for these cuts or they’ll turn into ugly scars,” she notes as she finishes bandaging his left hand. “Maybe you’ll take better care of them than…” a cough cuts off her thought, and she never picks up the threads. Her meaning hangs heavy in the air all the same. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He feels some sort of resolve to let his own hands wither and scar, to dote upon her for the rest of her days, as if it would help him prove his regret.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I care about you, you know?” she says, lifting his chin so his gaze meets hers. Her eyes look tired. They’ve lost the sparkle they once had in her youth- it’s as though they’ve been replaced with a corpse’s. The dark eyes that stare back at him are not Sister’s- they are dull, dead, empty. He wishes they could be bright again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you more than anyone else ever will.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And I love you, Sister,” he says, taking her hand in his and squeezing gently, ignoring the sharp pain from his cuts. He wishes she’d believe him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t like getting upset with you,” she hums, leaning back on her pillows. “Would you like to apologize? Kiyo?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--Kiyo,” Gonta’s voice cuts into his thoughts, concerned and uncharacteristically serious. As though called back into his own body, Korekiyo follows Gonta’s gaze and looks down at his hand. He unclenches his fist, finally feeling the pain that must have caused Gonta to speak up. His finger burns and throbs, yet- as with most things- he observes it with a quiet curiosity. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the fat bee fly away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he responds finally, shocking even himself with the breathy quality of his voice. “How careless of me. I… apologize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been so lost in his own thoughts, his own misery, he hadn’t taken note of his affect on others- in this instance, a bee. And in a more roundabout way, his affect on Gonta.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Selfish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gonta cocks his head to the side, furrowing his brow. Korekiyo is afraid to make eye contact, instead keeping his eyes trained on the hand that’s throbbing from the fresh sting and observing Gonta from his peripherals instead. He’s sure Gonta is angry- it doesn’t happen often, though he’s certainly capable of it- but… if he’s angry, he’s awfully quiet about it. Korekiyo isn’t sure if it’d be better to face thunderous anger- loud, forceful, unapologetic- or the subtle anger found in withering glares and unspoken sentences. Given his familiarity with both kinds, he would have thought the idea of anger would be easier to face, but the idea of upsetting Gonta terrifies him. He holds his breath, concentrating on remaining expressionless, concentrating on keeping his breathing even, concentrating at pushing the voice in his mind aside-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, Korekiyo. No one has the patience for boys like you. Apologize for your carelessness.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re lucky you have someone like me, you better take care of me, I’m all you have. I’m all you’ll ever have. Apologize for your carelessness.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Apologize-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why apologize?” Gonta breaks the silence. His tone is so earnest, so genuine. An inexplicable pain forms in Korekiyo’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t paying attention,” he stammers in response, “I’ve killed one of your bees. I’m sorry, I should have been more attentive...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gonta shakes his head, reaching for Korekiyo’s hand once more, “Bumble bees not die after stinging. Is Kiyo okay? That matters most.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he says, but it doesn’t seem to do much to sway Gonta, concern still etched into every corner of his face. Instinctively, Korekiyo has clenched his fist, bringing his hand close to his chest, pulling away from his friend’s outstretched hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can... Gonta see sting?” he asks slowly, cautiously, as though he knows Korekiyo will have some hesitation unbandaging his hands. “If Gonta not pull out stinger, Kiyo will hurt more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he would prefer to keep his hands covered and take care of the sting later on his own, he hasn’t much of a choice- he has no confidence he’d be able to successfully remove the stinger and he’s growing more uncomfortable by the moment. Reluctantly, Korekiyo unfurls his fingers, rolling up his sleeve with his free hand and pulling at a loose end of the bandage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn’t sure why he feels so nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping his hands covered has become something of a habit. A point of vanity, really. The ugly scars that line his fingers remind him of how he upset Sister. Of how cruel he could be. His scars remind him that, if humanity is truly as beautiful as he believes it to be, his predisposition for cruelty must mean he himself is several steps removed. There is nothing beautiful about him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gonta takes the reins once Korekiyo has started unraveling the bandages- his touch is confident. Gentle. Careful. His touch quiets some of the panic bubbling to the surface of Korekiyo’s mind. He steels himself as inch upon inch of his skin is bared, the blemish free flesh giving way to angry stripes of red lining his fingers. Gonta must notice these scars, there’s no way he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but he says nothing. Instead, he sets aside the bandages and pushes his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, bringing his face close to Korekiyo’s fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must apologize again,” Korekiyo clears his throat, “I suppose it was inevitable that I would upset your hive. I’m something of an upsetting presence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The welt left from the sting is easy to spot- it stands out starkly against his pale skin, even in the sea of faded red scars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Korekiyo doesn’t need to apologize,” Gonta repeats, his voice quieter than usual as he concentrates on the task at hand. With expert agility and fluidity, he brushes his nail against Kiyo’s finger, easily scraping the stinger out. It doesn’t lessen the pain immediately, but having the stinger out of his skin  is something of a relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Korekiyo has done nothing wrong,” Gonta smiles at him, straightening his back. “Not many people care about hurting bugs. When people get stung, people get angry and not think about bug. But Kiyo’s first thought is about killing bee.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Korekiyo reaches for his discarded bandages.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not done,” Gonta says, holding up a finger. He reaches into a nearby drawer, procuring a very used looking tube of cream. It’s unlabeled. In quick, practiced movements, he uncaps the tube, squeezing a small amount onto his finger, and gently massages it into Korekiyo’s skin. The sharp pain dulls ever so slightly, but Korekiyo is far too focused on the warmth of Gonta’s fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gonta used to get stings all the time,” he says, still holding gently onto Korekiyo’s hand, “but not often now. Kiyo can keep cream to make sting hurt less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As though it were an expected part of first aid, Gonta lifts Korekiyo’s fingers to his lips, pressing a light kiss onto the sting before releasing Korekiyo’s hand and reaching for the bandages. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Korekiyo blinks, frozen, feeling a heat flush to his face. Having someone else tenderly care for his wounds, excuse his carelessness, it’s all foreign to him, but somehow the kiss is the most unexpected part. Such a simple action, performed with confidence, and Korekiyo finds his entire thought process has halted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Gonta turns back with the bandages, he looks at Korekiyo, his eyes widening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>his face immediately flushes a deep red, “Gonta sorry! Gonta see someone do this before, think it a common practice. But now, seeing Kiyo’s face… Gonta think maybe this guess was wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no,” Korekiyo says, his entire face numb, “It was unexpected… but… it was nice,” he finishes, flatly. For once, he doesn’t want to educate Gonta on the nuances of the action he’s just performed, he doesn’t want to explain the appropriate settings and relationships for such an action. For once, it doesn’t matter. He simply wants to focus on the new sensation that’s budding in his fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay if… Gonta does it again?” his voice is sheepish, and his fingers toy with the fraying edges of Korekiyo’s bandage as he speaks. His skin flushes impossibly deeper as Korekiyo reaches out and tilts his chin upward, meeting his gaze. Despite his nerves, Gonta’s eyes sparkle. They’re always so lively, so full of excitement and life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In another unexpected move, Gonta slowly reaches out, fingers ghosting against the edge of the dark fabric of Korekiyo’s mask. His eyes dart down to the mask for the briefest moment, asking for permission. Korekiyo nods ever so slightly, feeling his eyes close as the fabric is pulled gently away from his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gonta’s lips are soft. Unpracticed, much like his own. But the pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweetness</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the earnestness in his kiss is enough to claw its way into Korekiyo’s chest and he returns the kiss, unconfident as he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their kiss is short and timid, but it’s enough. The promise of more lingers in the air, punctuated by a happy, satisfied hum from Gonta as they part. He turns his attention back to Korekiyo’s injury which, suddenly, hardly hurts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Korekiyo pulls his mask back up, a smile growing at his lips as Gonta’s fingers weave their way around his hand, carefully placing the bandages back on his skin. Some of the tangled threads in his mind start to unravel, some of his thoughts start to make sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe, at last, someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>understand him. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>what's up gontaguuji nation????? i think these boys are neat and deserve the world!!! canon did them so dirty and i cannot let it stand, not in my house!!</p>
<p>(also ps i am obviously not a beekeeper i just googled some stuff, so if i said anything wrong in the fic, pretend i didn't... thank u 💕🥺)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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